Accidents and Adventures
by oversizedsweaters
Summary: On their way to New York City, Ross and Laura encounter a chain of humorous and unlucky events. Follow the two as they go through this crazy adventure, navigating their way through a foreign country in their hopeless attempt in getting to New York on time. But who knew this bizarre experience could teach the two about trust and love? Please read and review! Share, fav, and follow.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

This is just an introduction/prologue to the story. The real chapters will be ten times longer than this! haha Enjoy!

* * *

When two foreign teenagers try to tell you this whole situation is one big accident, it's kind of hard to believe. Especially when these two teenagers are looking quite similar to an insane hobo, complete with the frizzy hair, shredded clothing, and don't forget, drenched in this god awful stench of who knows what.

But trust me when I say, none of this was _my_ fault.

It was all Ross's idea to stay out of the media and travel how 'normal' people would. And well, I guess it was this moron sitting next to me, with our hands cuffed onto a red metal pole at a police station in the middle of nowhere, who got us into this big mess.

I could be relaxing in a spa, receiving a facial and a full on pedicure and manicure treatment at a five star hotel down in New York City. Or, I could be walking the streets of Time Square, shopping at every store that managed to pull me in. I could be dining at fancy, first class restaurant, eating a savoury filet mignon and a tasty creme brulee with other famous celebrities. Instead, here I was, with my butt planted onto the cold, hard cement floor, looking over the disturbing scenery of a rotting wooden desk, a breathless dog, and a police man with a considerably large beer belly.

If it wasn't for this moron of a singer, my head wouldn't be throbbing with pain, and I wouldn't be crying over some stupid, minor scrapes and cuts on my arms. I wouldn't be wearing a neon green sandal on one foot and a traditional Huarache shoe on the other. My hair wouldn't be complimented with natural chicken feather extensions. My clothes wouldn't be splattered with what looked like to be a strange mixture of rainbow confetti, mud, and famous El Diablo's Extra Hot Sauce. And I definitely wouldn't be trying to teach myself Spanish that I learned almost three years ago during freshmen year.

But everything was fine. And strangely, I was more than okay. Mostly because, this was probably the most fun I've ever had after getting caught up in the media, the spotlight, and all this acting mumbo jumbo.

To be honest, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Sure, I was lying next to the helpless idiot that caused all of this, who by the way was making no effort in breaking us out of jail. He was the one who spent too much time deciding what flavour of gum to purchase. He was the one who let the coach bus leave us behind and ended up hitch hiking us a ride with an old Mexican couple. He was the one who got knocked in the head with five bananas, stole a bicycle with a cute basket attached to the handle bars, crashed a Quinceañera with screaming teenage girls chanting his name, almost got us killed by a flock of sinister chickens, bargained for one half of a pair of Mexican sandals, made friends with a juvenile gang member, and got us temporary arrested for breaking a glass bottle of hot sauce.

But this moron was my partner in crime.

My best friend.

The love of my life.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

So here's the introduction to my new story! I got inspiration not only from r5's newest single Pass Me By and the first line of the song. But also a teen fiction story I read called The Accidental Tourists almost three/four months ago.

Yay for inspiration haha.

This is a Raura story. But if that damn account that comments about not being allowed to use real characters, I'll change it to Auslly.

I know a lot of you guys enjoy angsty story but I figured to write a humour story. And my fanfiction October is currently being re done :)

**Anyways, please leave a review below, a fav, or follow! I would really like to know if anyone is interested in me continuing this story.**

- Waverly. Xoxo


	2. Chapter 1: Gum

My dressing room was quiet, peaceful, and the most ideal place to be sleeping in. That is, until Ross came barging in, screaming my name at the top of his lungs like he was being murdered.

"LAURA!" he slammed through the door, his voice echoing against the walls.

The sound of his voice was too loud and definitely unexpected, that my body didn't know how to react in an orderly manner. Instead, my brain decided that I'd tangle myself within the blankets and topple onto the floor.

"What?" I mumbled into the carpet, trying to find a comfortable position on the non cushioned surface.

"Wake up!" he angrily ordered.

I groaned as loud as I could before burying myself under the twenty blankets hugging my body. There was no way I was going to let Ross ruin my plan of hiding out in my dressing room, hoping the directors would forget about my presence - or in this case, lack of presence - and carry on with filming. There was a mini refrigerator in the corner of my room that was stocked with all the foods you could ask for, and unless I really needed to go to the bathroom, I was not coming out of this room. Besides, it was Friday for crying out loud. Haven't the directors ever heard of _TGIF_? I couldn't care less if anyone else in the crew was eager to get filming done. I have been waking up at six in the morning, and working until late night every day for the past week. I just wanted to sleep.

"Laura!" Ross yelled into my ear, tearing off the blankets that were doing a great job in hiding me until now.

I stretched my hand to the right, reaching under the couch and pulled out two more blankets that were just as comfortable. Sure it was covered in dust, but it was the fluffiness that counts.

"Are those my blankets?" he screeched in horror, pulling on the fabric I was hugging tightly.

"Yes. Now stop bothering me," I mumbled into the soft fabric.

"But...But," he stammered. "These are my blankets!"

"Oh, get over it."

Ross Lynch: blanket enthusiast. He was nearly nineteen years old of pure muscle. But his obsession with blankets and cuddling with them in his dressing room, all alone, was ridiculous. I swear, his separation anxiety with his blankets was getting worse day by day. Although, I can understand his problem: these cashmere duvet covers and knitted blankets felt like hugging a cloud or even better, an overly obese soft kitten.

"Did you steal these from my room?" he asked.

"Did you come in here and interrupt my deep sleep just so you could cry over your blankets?" I growled.

He narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth as if he was going to argue with me. Instead he rolled his eyes and sighed. "I've been looking everywhere for these," he muttered. "Actually, I came here to propose."

"You're not asking me for my hand in marriage are you?" I sat up from the floor. "Because-"

"To propose a once in a life time offer!" he finished proudly.

I heaved a sigh of relief. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't want to marry Ross, but marrying him really wasn't on my "to do" list either. Mostly because tying the knot at eighteen is a little bizarre in my mind, and I'm 100 percent positive my dad would whip out his wooden fork and spoon, and jar of tomato sauce and scream "MURDER" if he ever found out I was dating someone. I can only imagine the horror on his face and the ridiculous plan he'll come up with if he found out I was _marrying _someone: he'll probably whip out his extra special hot tomato sauce instead. Besides, Ross was my best friend: you don't marry your best friends.

I groaned, "Go on."

Ross rubbed his palms together and began pacing the room back in forth; a sign that whatever plan or idea he was storming up in that head of his was completely not worth your time. But I let him talk anyways.

"After three days of deciding," he began. "I have come to a conclusion that **you **should come to New York with **me**."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because, it's New York!"

I looked at him with a dumbfounded expression. I don't think he remembers that little trip we took with our mothers to The Big Apple almost a year and a half ago. How was this a once in a life time offer?

"I've been to New York before," I trudged over to the mini fridge and grabbed a bottle of water with two purposes in mind: to hydrate myself and to whack Ross in the head.

"But have you been to Madison Square Garden?" he gestured wildly, imagining a wild crowd in front of him. I rolled my eyes in response. "Exactly."

I took a seat on the couch and mentally prepared myself for the same hour long lecture about how this concert was not only important to himself but to his family as well. I've probably heard that monologue about fifty times during the past month or so. And it's not that I didn't want to support him and the band because believe me, they were practically my extended family. But going to New York meant I had to help my mom with Vanessa's wedding. That was something I was not looking forward to. Call me selfish, but Vanessa just _had_ to push all her last minute planning on us because she claimed she needed her beauty rest; a beauty rest that lasted five months.

But much to my surprise, Ross skipped the lecture for today.

"Just tell me why you can't go Laura," he pleaded. "And I want a legitimate answer. I don't want to listen to your 'I've been to New York" nonsense because no one could ever get enough of New York."

He looked genuinely upset, and I know me not going with his family and the rest of the cast to NYC really killed him. Not that he told me, but there didn't need to be words said for me to understand whatever feelings were brewing inside of him.

At first, I figured letting him know about the wedding situation would be idiotic; my reasoning was ridiculous and he'll probably think so too. But what's the point in keeping such stupid thoughts? He was leaving tomorrow so might as well get over with it.

"Look," I set the water on the coffee table next to the couch. "If I go to New York, my mom would make-"

"Did I hear someone say New York?" my mom sang as she walked through the door with two chicken salads in her hand.

Perfect timing. Just great. Really. But at least she brought in food; the chicken part of the salad that is.

"Laura's coming," Ross smirked, keeping his eyes on me.

**He did not just go there.**

"Oh how wonderful!" my mom clapped, the corners of her lips tugging into a smile. She looked at me with raised eyebrows, obviously trying to push an explanation of my sudden change of plans out of me. But I just sat there, my hands bawled into fists, and fingers digging into my skin, trying to keep from exploding at the loser standing a few feet away with his stupid blankets lying at his feet. "How perfect is this working out. Now you can watch R5's concert with the rest of us and you'll be able to help out with the dress fittings and flower arrangements."

"Yeah, how _perfect_," I forced through my clenched teeth.

"This is so exciting. I heard the florist is one of a kind and her exotic flower arrangements are just out of this world and the special mineralized water..." My mom continued to ramble on about the _exotic_ flowers and what type of water was used even when she was out the door, halfway down the hallway and no one was listening. It almost felt like my mom was the bride to be.

The only thing her mind was focused on lately was this stupid wedding that wasn't supposed to happen in a few months. What colours should be used for the table cloths and chairs? Should the ribbons have lace patterns on them? White roses or red roses? Should there be a chocolate fondue machine or should the fruits already be dipped in chocolate?

These topics were the only things she could talk about during breakfast, dinner, and lunch. Even when I was on set practicing my lines, she'd pop out from behind the **Sonic Boom** counter with a bouquet of red and blood red roses asking for my opinion; as if there was any difference between the two colours. Not to mention, in the bathroom stalls at the mall or restaurants, she'll somehow manage to pass me colour swatches with different shades of blue through the miniscule spaces in the door. "Do you think this colour of blue will compliment Vanessa's eyes?" she once asked. And yes, I was in the stall at the time. And I'm pretty sure no one would even notice Vanessa's brown eyes popping at the wedding reception when the dessert table is standing right there. I know I wouldn't.

"You're unbelievable," I chucked my water bottle at Ross. But before it could make contact with any part of his body (preferably the lower area), he caught it in one swift motion and took a sip, out of _my _water. "That was mine!"

"And these," he reached for the lazily sprawled comforters on the floor, "are _my _blankets. Get over it," he mocked.

Before I could argue, he opened his mouth. "Be ready tomorrow by five in the morning."

Five in the morning? That's even earlier than what I wake up to _now. _"Are you insane? My mom and Raini and Calum aren't leaving until Wednesday. Besides, I'm not going."

"You're going. And you and I are leaving tomorrow because the tour bus-"

"_Tour Bus?_" I spat out. "Don't you have a private jet that you usually travel on?"

"Road trips are so much fun."

"New York is on the other side of the country Ross!" I gestured with my hands. "It will take us forever!"

"Relax," he put is hands on my shoulders. "We'll be there in time for the concert. Hence why we're leaving four days earlier."

"What about your family?"

"Riker was supposed to come on this trip with me," he admitted. "But he and my dad are staying here with Ryland until Tuesday for his football game. And my mom, sister, and Rocky are a bunch of princess's and decided to take a plane," he said as if traveling in a plane was the worst idea ever.

"Ratliff?"

"He's going with his parents," he rolled his eyes. This kid was smarter than he looks. He didn't have to tell me that he's been planning this interrogation for days now. With his confident smile and explanation for every question that I shot out of my mouth, he knew I wouldn't be able to get out of this trip. No matter how hard I tried. "Look, this will be fun. You, me, and the world around to see!"

"We're traveling by _bus_."

"Like normal people," he chirped. Ross was far too happy about this little trip of his. "If you come, I'll promise a two day shopping spree in New York."

The word **shopping** rung a bell in my brain, and just like that, traveling on a bus for who knows how long, didn't sound so bad after all. I could use some new shoes and I heard the Forever 21 down in Time Square was better than it appeared to be in all those Tumblr pictures. And there was no way I was going to pick out flowers and stare at colour swatches for fun. If I was going to go through the wrath of my mom's wedding planning and don't forget, having to sit on a bus next to this peculiar blonde boy for days, I deserved some sort of break.

I slapped myself mentally and made sure I wasn't going crazy. Because never would I ever agree on going on a _bus trip_ to some place miles away, but it turns out I was.

"Fine," I muttered under my breath. Shoes are a girl's best friends.

"What was that?" his face broke out into a brighter smile and that made up for my delusional decision. But only slightly.

"Don't make me say it again," I gave him a warning look.

"Trust me, you'll have the time of your life," he knelt down so we were at eye level. "And because you've finally agreed to come, keep this," he handed over one of his knitted blankets.

I guess now would probably be a good time to tell him that I have five of his blankets stuffed away in my closet. Or that his pillows are equally as comfortable.

But instead, I smiled at his gesture and braced myself for one hell of a trip.

* * *

Raini was ecstatic. Over the moon happy. Out of this world excited about this whole one on one road trip Ross and I were taking. She told me it was fate trying to bring us together, even if the two of us were closer than ever. She claimed this was Ross's romantic gesture of him asking me out. Yep, totally, because bribing me with a shopping spree was a romantic way of asking a girl out. Unless McDonalds or In N' Out Burger was involved, then no other way of asking me out could ever be romantic: I'm just kidding. But seriously, romance was totally out of the question at this point.

"New York City. The Big Apple," Raini sighed on the other line. "The city of love."

"I thought Paris was the city of love," I flipped through one of those teen magazines our show was featured in.

Ignoring me, she continued to gush about her fantasies that unfortunately involved Ross and I. "You guys are bound to fall in love."

"If anyone is falling in love," I said, "it's me and a new pair of Steve Madden boots."

"Stop avoiding the whole point of this conversation."

"What whole point?" I teased, knowing it would piss Raini off. What were best friends for right?

"Ross plus you plus New York City," if I could hear her eyes rolling through the line, then I'm sure Raini just did. "Equals a lot of romantic situations."

"Plus you and Calum and my mom," I added. "And the rest of Ross's family and everyone else a part of this trip, equals _no_ romantic situations."

"Laura," Raini said.

"Raini."

"Calum has taught me his _love whisperer _ways," she half whispered in a mocking tone. "And I know you'll be thanking me later."

"Yeah. I'll be thanking you and your opinion on those fabulous Steve Madden boots I sent you a picture of a few minutes ago," I laughed, finally finding the article on Season Four of Austin and Ally. "Because I know once I laid my eyes on those shoes, it was love at first sight," I cooed.

Raini let out a giggle. "You are impossible."

"But those boots are pretty lovely," I smiled.

"I'll laugh when you and Ross end up falling madly in love by the time this trip is over."

"And I'll laugh when I buy five pairs of the same boots," I retorted. "Look, Ross is nice and so is Calum, and all the other male beings I know. I need to go to bed okay? I'll see you in a few days."

Raini said her goodbyes but not before letting me know once more about me thanking her in the near future.

But if anyone is doing any thanking, it should be Ross. He should be thanking me that his head is still attached to his body after telling my mom that I had agreed to New York. Although, the fact that I had to be ready for five in the morning, I don't think Ross was ever going to live for any thanking to be done.

* * *

If it wasn't thanks to my mom's cooking and the smell of burning bacon that sifted throughout the entire house, I wouldn't have woken up on time. The clock on my phone read 4:47, which gave me approximately thirteen minutes to get ready. But considering getting out of bed usually takes me an extra five minutes (and that was on good days, which today was most definitely not), I only had just enough to time to throw on the first things I could find. And the first clothing articles that were in hands reach was a selection of plain white t-shirts, shorts, and neon green sandals that I could've rocked if my toe nails weren't painted a dark purple that screamed death. Not that there was anything wrong with dark purple, or death for that matter, but these clash of colours weren't doing any justice to my appearance. Especially with my hair all tangled, frizzy, and sticking up in the most random places, and don't forget the awful dark circles under my eyes.

To put things in simple words, you probably wouldn't be able to distinguish between a racoon and the famous Laura Marano. Maybe if I hadn't stayed up all night, complaining about the false advertisement on Austin and Ally in that stupid teen magazine, my face would have looked a little more angelic. But whoever the publisher was of that damn article really got me rifled up last night, and apparently, complaining to my bed side table and pillows weren't going to help with the sleeping situation.

By the time I got my bags ready, somewhat tamed my hair, and two and a half pieces of semi burnt bacon down my stomach, Ross was already waiting out the door. He was leaning against the sketchy black Range Rover without a slightest hint of annoyance in his face despite me being over ten minutes late. I figured he was really excited about this stupid road trip.

I was just about to slam the trunk of the car shut when my mom just had to come rushing out the door with no other than colour swatches in her hands.

"Laura!" she ran over, her silk robe flapping in the wind. "Take these."

I looked down at the different shades of blues and purples in her hands, "Why do I need these?"

"I can't decide what colour ribbons the bouquet should be tied with."

"But I don't really care," I shrugged.

"You're the maid of honour; Vanessa wants your opinion on the colours."

I know Vanessa was just trying to be a good sister by asking me to be the maid of honour at her wedding. And maybe this was her way of showing that she somewhat cared for me. But Vanessa had a handful of friends that were ten times prettier than I was, and those friends would definitely look way better in the wedding photos.

My paleness probably wouldn't show up on the camera.

"I'll make sure she spends a lot of time deciding what colours look best Mrs. Marano," Ross took the swatches in his hands. He smiled at my mom that thankfully, seemed to put her at ease. "We better get going."

"Alright. I'll see you guys in a few days, and you," she pointed at me. "Don't forget."

"I know," I mumbled. "The colour swatches."

"I want you to be serious about this okay Laura?"

And with that, she waved one last time and stormed back into the house. She didn't even give me an "Enjoy your trip!" or a proper goodbye. Instead, she left me with a reminder for the colour swatches. _Colour swatches. _

Even when things had nothing to do with Vanessa or her wedding, it always had to be about Vanessa and her wedding.

* * *

"This is like heaven," Ross stared in awe.

We were standing in a convenience store some miles away from Santa Monica, looking over an assortment of different flavoured gum.

Just like I expected, the bus ride was torture. With a screaming five month old child, and an old lady who bragged about how behaved her pet poodle was, I was this close to strangling Ross who seemed perfectly content just sitting there. We have been driving for hours looking over the familiar scenery of beaches and water and palm trees, when finally the bus stopped for a quick potty break in the middle of nowhere, literally. There was a gas station, a ghetto convenience store and a stretch of highway with no other buildings in site. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought we were trapped in Las Vegas; which we probably were. I think driving for more than ten hours was long enough to get us into a different state.

The sun was beginning to set and the California heat, or the heat of whatever state we were currently in, was starting to dissipate. The temperature definitely dropped at least a couple of degrees since our last stop at Chick- Fil- A, and now I regret my poor choice in wardrobe.

"What flavour should I go for?" Ross put a finger to his chin

"Does it really matter?" I asked impatiently with a bag of Oreos in my hands that were ready to be devoured. But that wouldn't happen if Ross didn't choose a gum pack in two seconds. "Hurry up. We still need to pay and the bus driver only gave us ten minutes."

He waved me off with the flick of his hands and continued to stare at the gum in front of him. "Hubba Bubba is so tasty."

"Great," I reached for the original Hubba Bubba. "Now let's go pay."

"No, no, no. I didn't say I wanted that one," he snatched the gum from my hands.

"Ross."

He tossed the Hubba Bubba back in its spot before narrowing his eyes once more. "Juicy Fruit was my child hood," he smiled. His hand slowly reached for the yellow packaging and just when I thought his decision had been made, he dropped his arm.

"Ross," I whined, doing that squiggle motion thing with your arms when you wanted to leave some place with all your heart. I was starving and these Oreos weren't going to magically appear in my stomach itself.

"FIVE gum would be a good choice though," he fiddled with the brand's gum packet. "Because R5, get it?"

I didn't laugh, even though Ross nearly having a heart attack and dying over his own joke was an amusing sight. Instead I shot him daggers that he hopefully interpreted into "Choose the damn gum before I chop you into five pieces." But with my luck, he just continued to laugh.

"Ross."

"Okay," he held up his hands. "Okay. I'll just go with Stride gum because why not?"

"Finally," I muttered under my breath.

Ross reached for one of the gum packets and I was about to walk over to the cashier and pay for our things. But instead, he put the packet of gum back down and frowned.

"I don't know what flavour to get."

"Just buy all of them!" I barked, ready to whack Ross with the Oreos. Everyone else in the store had already paid for their things and were probably filing into the bus at this moment. If we didn't get moving, our sorry asses would be left behind.

"But I don't want all of them," he cried. "I can't finish all that gum. Just wait, there's sweet mint, and spark kinetic fruit, white mint, mintacular, fearless fruit, and don't forget the myst-"

"Ross!" I interrupted his gum flavour listing. "I don't care about the flavours! If you don't choose what gum you want, the bus will leave us here and I will not hesitate to whack you in the head with this," I held up the box of Oreos.

That shut him up. He grabbed the first flavour he could get his hands on and tossed it over, making sure he kept his distance. Because he and I both knew I was eager to hit him in the face with my bag of Oreos. So after we paid for our food, I made sure to hit him really hard.

"What was that for?" he brought his hand to the back of his head. I mockingly gave him a smirk before walking out the door.

And that's when I noticed the head lights of the bus were slowly getting further and further away. I looked around to make sure this was some other coach bus that had decided to make a pit stop at the same place and time we did. But then I remembered, when we pulled into the parking lot, the only other vehicle present was a beat up Camaro. And unless that beat up Camaro was a transformer, there was no way it could turn into a coach bus. As if right on cue, I spotted the bright red Camaro sitting in the corner of the lot, untouched.

"Laura," Ross whispered. "Is that our-"

"Bus?" I shouted. "WHAT ELSE DO YOU THINK IT IS?"

I didn't get to hear what idiotic answer came out of his mouth because I found myself running after the bus. My feet were hitting the ground hard as I pushed myself to run faster, to run like my bag of Oreos were in the hands of a hungry hobo, to run like my mom was chasing me with colour swatches. My lungs were fighting for air and I wondered, was this how marathon runners felt like? Did they feel like hell was burning through their body? But my running was no use. Not because I was slow (which I was) but the bus was too fast. Even with my arms flailing in the air, using the bag of Oreos as an SOS flag, and yelling out words that sounded similar to a satanic chant, the bus was long gone; driving down the stretch of an empty highway, leaving two of their passengers behind.

Everything happened so quickly, and different scenarios of my death at an isolated convenience store were swirling in the back of mind, that I didn't even notice I had stopped running and was now nervously munching down on the Oreos: stress eating was a bad habit of mine. But this was certainly something to stress about.

It was cold - no thanks to the sun that had begun to set - and our bus was well on it's way to New York without us. But worst of all, I was stuck here with this doofus whose biggest problem of the day was what gum flavour to purchase.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Here's chapter one! I hope you enjoyed.

I figured making Laura sarcastic and anything far from "weak" and "emotional" was best for this story. And we all know Laura loves to troll us with the subject of Raura, so why not add her cockblocking into my story? Don't forget, Ross's obsession with blanket's in his dressing room.

So I watched the conjuring yesterday, and now I'm crying with fear. And R5 are 30 minutes away from where I live AND I CAN'T GO SEE THEM BECAUSE FAMILY'S BIG TICKET SUMMER IS SOLD OUT MY CRIESSSS :(

**Anyways, please leave a review and tell me what you think? **_**What do you think will happen next? **_(But I guess if you read the introduction chapter, you'll have a pretty good idea of what's to happen lol)

**I would love to hear some feedback. Don't forget to fav/follow and share!**

- Waverly, xoxo.


	3. IM BACK :)

sorry for the sudden disappearence. school started back up and god, i didn't know it would be so hectic being back so soon. i've been caught up with university scouting and i've been in search for a new job so yeah.

anyways, im still alive and im currently writing chapter 2 :)

- waverly xoxo


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